The Soufflé of Sweet Revenge

Lan

te jab. She wanted me to react. She wanted a scene. I felt a familiar pang, but it was

s also competing in. He said it was a "professional obligation." The time he missed my birthday dinner because Frankie needed hel

ake me feel like I was the insecure, jealous one. "You're suffocating me, Emma," he'd say, his

. Someone who had learned, painfully, that some apologies a

forting warmth in my stomach. I wouldn't give

my heels echoing in the quiet restaurant. I walked directly to their booth. Collin's head s

, almost sweet. I looked directly at Frankie. "Ne

s face flushed a deep crimson, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Are

lone. Which, as you can see, is clearly going much better than yours." I paused, letting my w

orry. I didn't realize you two were still... working through things. Collin told me yo

Collin," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "You've earned

oring each bite, the distant murmur of Collin and Frankie's agitated whispers a faint backdrop t

llin!" Frankie hissed. "Why di

etorted, his voice strained. "She jus

being passive-aggressive. She wan

different. She wasn't begging, Frankie. She wasn't even upset. She just looked... done.

t it. He still thought I was just another problem to be "gotten rid of." But his words, "she's not like th

felt a profound sense of lightness, a liberation I hadn't thought possible. I wasn't hurt anymore. I was free. Free to